<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>hallucinate. by razussy</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24649768">hallucinate.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/razussy/pseuds/razussy'>razussy</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Magnus Archives (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gift Work, M/M, Oneshot, Other, fanon is better, jon is gay but doesnt know, mlm, not rlly canon, spoilers?? idk, they r in scotland</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 03:08:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,352</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24649768</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/razussy/pseuds/razussy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>jonathan has some thinking to do.</p><p>-</p><p>gift for issafelle on instagram !! check out their tma artwork for more content :)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>hallucinate.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>i wrote this from a brief summary of the entire plot plus some of the first few episodes ,, sOrry if it isn't accurate but i am known for fanon &gt; canon so!!! have fun</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>his ears were becoming strained as he listened to the distance crashes of the waves and whispers of the winds. he could've swore he heard something else, perhaps someone calling out to him incoherently, but he did not know. jon was sitting on the stool in a dim bedroom of the house him and martin fled to how ever long ago; eyes shut while his focus on the selective sounds faltered briefly. he jumped at the sudden noise of thunder, getting onto his feet and running to the window to close the drapes. other than the candle that was so delicately places on the desk, it became dark in the room, jon becoming engulfed by the fears he wasn't aware he had.</p><p>his gaze landed on his hand that was still gripping onto the curtains, a dark substance covering it. in a quick beat, he moved back to where the only light source was, seeing the substance was blood from an unknown source. had he been bleeding before? when did he get a cut? he checked his other hand, and to his surprise, it also was drenched in the prettiest shade of red. the color splattered as far as his forearm, causing a certain anxiety in his chest to emerge. as he desperately rubbed the palms of his hands on his pants in hopes to clear the evidence of destruction, he began to feel there was a witness; panic glances around the empty room to see if his feeling was true. he shouldn't of done that, he realized, the sudden sights of specific weapons that weren't there previously coming and going before he could settle his eyes on them.</p><p>jon was freaking out, this is out of character for him. he ran his blood-stained hands through his thick curls and cried out: "what the fuck is this? have i lost all my sanity? i wanted him dead. the first thing i did was wash myself, then i made my escape. this is a curse i get for doing the deed, how miserable and depressing! if i had not saved the damn man from a life of despair, i wouldn't be going through it personally." he slammed his palms on the top of the desk, the candle's flame dancing in a threat of dying out. he let out a struggled sigh, felt dizzy from the overwhelming tension on his person, a burning sensation on his forehead that made him sweat. what he said was somewhat true - he wouldn't be in deep shit if he was just selfish enough to forget his co-worker was an important person in his life. important? probably, he always got tea out of the partnership, he guesses that's important.</p><p>he went silent as the faint steps from the hallway caught his attention, his hands sliding from the desk to the stool to use as a form of self defense. he knew it wasn't going to be a good being from the slow pause between steps, the attempt to be quiet yet failing, the slight shuffle of its foot against the floor. whatever it was, it got his adrenaline flowing, more than it already has been; it stopped right outside the room door, twisted the handle in a strange manner, he grew impatient.<br/>"jonathan, are you asleep? it's not even close to night," a familiar voice murmured after the door was cracked open. it was martin. jon immediately felt himself relax, letting go of the stool and standing up straight. he came to check on me, he thought, i shouldn't have been so loud.<br/>"no, i'm here," he turned to face him and shoved his hands into his pockets. he didn't need him to freak out from the blood, though he doesn't know if its still there. "what did you need, martin? has something happened?"</p><p>"not really, i figured you needed company, you've been in here for a few hours. you missed lunch, you didn't let me bring you tea. how are you doing?" asked martin, as he closed the door behind him. he was worried and it was easy to tell, after all they've been through how could he not be. he folded his hands in front of him, resting on his stomach, and noticed that the archivist was very interested in his hands. odd.<br/>"why did you bring a cloth? nothing has spilled in here, i'm not a klutz," said jon, as he reached over and paused before he touched martin's hands. he blinked, now looking at his own palm. the blood was gone. he cleared his throat and turned away from martin; "i'm doing fine, a little hungry now that you've mentioned i missed a meal. i think i'm done sitting in here for the day." he blew out the candle and stepped passed him, going to the door. he was stopped, and the light was turned on.</p><p>martin kept a gentle grip on his shoulder; "i heard you holler, and you thought i had a rag. i don't think you're fine. you can talk to me, you know," he reassured in a soft tone, not sure why he felt the need to stay quiet. just in case. jon didn't look at him, his head hung a bit as he debated on telling the truth, or to kindly tell him to piss off. curse his friendly nature, making him at ease and a sense of safety spirals. to think about it, this isn't the first time his friend put his feelings first before anything else, not even his own. he puts up with his garbage rants and irritating personality, and cares for him very much - sure, it could be from the fact he saved him, but these actions have been present since they were first paired up together. he was there through the most minor and major inconveniences, and whenever jon was upset, he was there with his comforting character to help calm his fired up nerves.</p><p>"let me eat first, you know how i get when i skip it. what about you?" he finally spoke up and returned the gaze, shrugging off his touch. instead of a verbal response, he got a physical one: a hug. martin held the other close and placed his chin on the top of his head, not saying anything. jon returned the hug and leaned against him, thinking he needed it. he had his ear pressed against his chest and could hear the light beating of his heart, the warmth always coming off him made his face flush. well, he must've forgot how nice it was to embrace martin, and to feel his light fingers draw lines and circles against his back. usually this made him squirm, but not now, he enjoyed the closeness and felt as though time itself stopped as they stood in the silent room. silent, he couldn't hear anymore out-of-place thunder or the noisy waves or eerie wind. did he ever hear rain hitting the window panes? he can't recall.</p><p>soon, martin pulled away and apologized, replying to the question that he was feeling better with a little smile. oh, he liked that smile. his friend was pretty. so was he, obviously, but martin is high up there. they stayed close to each other while walking down the hall and stairs, ignoring the other residents that spoke little to no english, and were most likely also runaways needing a temporary place to say. that's what jon likes to believe, at least.<br/>jon ate what he missed out on, listening to martin go on about matters that were serious but he didn't pay much attention to the real words, rather his smooth inflection. that, and wondering what happened not too long ago in the bedroom. he mentally tossed out the memory as if it wouldn't be an issue later in his life, and for once he was right - never did he see blood staining his hands or clothes, or see the peculiar shapes of knives and guns that he'd be unable to name. just another strange occurrence excused by not keeping up with proper eating habits, as usual.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i now shall dislike how i ended this and listen to the rest of the podcast, ily isabelle mwah kiss ur face</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>